Family Love (Percy Jackson Futurefics)
by ClinkBear
Summary: Percy and Annabeth, together with their young children Oliver and Malia, are a sweet little family. Little one-shots to brighten your day!


**Thunderstorm**

A fierce streak of lightning sparked across the night sky, briefly illuminating New York's city skyline. Barely a second later, thunder boomed and clapped deafeningly, the reverberations seeming to shake the walls of the apartment itself.

Caught by surprise, Percy jumped, nearly upsetting the bottle of baby formula he held in one hand. He rolled his eyes – knowing his father and uncle, they were probably having yet another argument. These squabbles between Zeus and Poseidon usually resulted in the most violent of thunderstorms, like the one inflicted upon New York tonight.

"Percy! You done with that formula already? Someone's getting antsy over here!" called a voice from the family room. Annabeth's voice.

Percy loved that voice. To him, it was the sweetest sound in the world - a sound of quiet victory. At thirty years old, Percy's life from birth had been tumultuous, to say the least. The past few decades had included three major wars and a countless number of difficult quests. Annabeth had fought alongside him, shoulder-to-shoulder, on all of them. The fact that they were both still alive was not lost on either of them.

Thinking about who Annabeth was referring to, made him smile. Malia Jackson, his five-month-old little girl. She was a beautiful little thing, with gorgeous tufts of blond hair and animated blue-green eyes. The name meant 'calm and peaceful', or 'calm waters' in another incarnation – a nice nod to his heritage.

It represented exactly what he and Annabeth desired for their children – a peaceful and joyous life, without the constant threat of death they had to face throughout much of their own lives. Annabeth had once speculated in the hope that legacies, or the children of demigods, could possibly live in normalcy due to a greatly 'diluted' godly DNA. Percy truly hoped that was the case.

"On my way!" he answered. Squeezing the bottle of formula slightly in his right hand, Percy carefully elevated its temperature until it was comfortably warm against his skin. He traced a finger around the rim, creating a gentle current within the bottle that stirred the contents. Satisfied, Percy replaced the teat cap and hurried out of the kitchen, to the family room where his daughter awaited her dinner.

Annabeth sat in a plush armchair with their little girl on her lap; one arm protectively cradling her little frame and the other attempting to free her own hair from Malia's enclosed fists. She was chuckling, looking into the angelic face of her precious babe, which mirrored her own in a toothless giggle.

Breaking into a small laugh himself at the adorable scene, Percy strode over to his wife and handed her the warmed bottle. "Now now Mal, don't pull Mommy's hair," he softly chided, gently prying the little girl's fingers away from Annabeth's hair. Malia looked up at her father and smiled widely, prompting Percy to plant a kiss on her forehead.

"Thanks," laughed Annabeth, referring both to the bottle and the hair, "You should probably go check on Oliver while I give Mal her bottle. He's been in the bathroom a while. Despite the loud thunderstorm, he insisted he was brave enough to go to the bathroom alone and didn't want my help, but I think he must be scared, Perce."

Oliver Jackson was their firstborn child. Nearly four years old, he was beginning to assert his growing independence. With his hazel-brown hair and eyes the same blue-green as his little sister, he adored his father and looked up to him constantly; a fact Percy found most endearing.

His name was an ode to the olive tree, a symbol of peace (as with Malia), and just as importantly, wisdom.

"A man should grow up to be wise," Annabeth had insisted during her pregnancy with Oliver. "After all," she teased, "we wouldn't want him to be _seaweed-brained_, would we?"

Percy grew concerned and glanced in the direction of the bathroom. "Don't worry, I'll check on him," assured Percy, as he began to ascend the few steps that would lead to more of the apartment. Reaching the bathroom, Percy tapped the closed door lightly with the pads of his fingers, to avoid further startling the child within.

"Buddy? You in there? It's daddy," Percy called softly. There was no reply. "Ollie, Oliver?" Another thunderclap suddenly shook the sky in a deafening rumble, making Percy jump for the second time that evening. From within the bathroom came a quiet whimper.

_Seriously Dad,_ thought Percy, annoyed, _Could you and Zeus tone it down a notch? My three year old would really appreciate it right now._

"Ollie, buddy, I'm coming in, okay?" Percy turned the doorknob and pushed the door open slightly, poking his head through the gap cautiously – then swung it open, puzzled. Where was Oliver?

Then Percy noticed the shower curtain by the bathtub shivering. He pursed his lips in concern. "Bud, you okay? Daddy's here," he said calmly. The shower curtain was quickly flung open and out tumbled little Oliver, his blue-green eyes wide with genuine fear.

"Daddy!" Oliver cried, propelling himself towards Percy, who promptly got down to his level and received him with both arms. The little boy burst into tears. "It was scary!"

"I know," Percy soothed, instinctively rubbing gentle circles in the small of Oliver's back. It was the same action he used to comfort Annabeth when she freaked out – which rarely occurred, but worked all the same. "I got you, buddy. You're okay."

Percy only then noticed – a classic 'obtuse Seaweed Brain' move – that the little boy in his arms was missing his pants, and that the pants in question were actually in the toilet.

"I dropped it," little Oliver tearfully explained, automatically answering the inevitable question. "It was too loud, and I was scared and I dropped it. Mommy will be mad."

Percy chuckled and tousled his son's hair. "Why would Mommy be mad?" he reasoned gently, "You were scared, and it was an accident. I for one, think you are very brave to go all on your own in a big storm! Mommy does too."

Oliver sniffed and nodded. Lightning chose to flash across the sky at that moment, and he yelped, clinging on to Percy's neck for dear life.

"You're okay," Percy repeated calmly, grabbing a clean towel and wrapping the three-year-old in it before hoisting him into his arms. They made their way to Oliver's room, where Percy got him dressed into his favourite shark-themed pajamas.

All the while, Percy was thinking. Oliver's fear had sparked a distant memory that Percy had of his childhood, and of his own mom.

_"You know, Percy," Sally Jackson spoke gently to the little five-year-old boy cowering behind the couch, terrified of the thunderstorm raging outside, "there is a way to make it softer."_

_"How? Tell me!" little Percy pleaded._

_"After the lightning goes by, count with me – one thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand… the farther you count, the softer the thunder will be when it comes."_

Percy smiled.

"Hey bud," he began, "Want to try something?"  
_

Fifteen minutes later, Percy and Oliver entered the family room, the latter throwing himself into Annabeth's arms. "Mommy!" proclaimed the little boy, apparent relief flooding his features.

"Hi Oliver," smiled Annabeth, returning the hug affectionately, "Speak softly, okay? Let's not wake sister up." As she spoke, Annabeth gestured toward Malia, who was cuddled under a duvet on the couch, fast asleep - her tiny blond curls splayed out on the pillow.

Percy's insides grinned. _She looks just like Annabeth when she's asleep._

"Well, you were a long time." Annabeth commented to Percy, more of a question than a statement.

"Father of the year," he winked in response.

Just then, lightning cracked, flashing so blindingly that every inch of the room lit up for a split second, prompting them to wince and shut their eyes in response.

"Almighty Zeus - what on earth are they arguing about!" Annabeth complained.

Little Oliver looked startled for a second, then quickly covered his ears. Retreating slowly towards Percy, he began to count, as loudly as a whisper would allow. "One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand, five thousand..."

Percy picked Oliver up and sat him on his own knees, as the boy continued to count steadily and calmly.

Annabeth watched her little boy in amazement. No tears, no whimpering, no yelling? And boy was he counting good, even with the word 'thousand'._  
_

Oliver made it just to "twenty-five thousand" when the thunder came. Was it just her imagination, or did the thunder sound... insignificant?

"I MADE IT SOFT!" Oliver whisper-yelled, so excited he could barely contain himself. He was looking back and forth between Percy and Annabeth, an incredulous expression on his adorable little face. "I made it soft, Daddy!"

Percy grinned. "You sure did, buddy. That was some serious work you did there - very good!"

Annabeth smiled like it was the best thing in the world, although she had no idea what he just did. "I'm so proud of you, buddy." And she was - this was a first._  
_

She sent a questioning look to Percy, who only winked again. _Fill you in later, _he mouthed silently.

Oliver pushed himself off Percy's knees and walked around to where his sister slept. He peered curiously at Malia for a second, seeming to ascertain whether she was still sound asleep, before whipping around quickly to face his parents, an expression of awe and immense pride on his face.

"What is it, Ollie?" asked Percy softly.

"I made it soft," little Oliver's eyes shone with delight, "for Malia!"

END

**I hope you guys enjoyed this! **

**This was actually loosely based on my own experiences as a small child - I used to be frightened of thunderstorms (in particular the loud booming of thunder), but soon got over it after my dad taught me this 'counting method'. Cool, huh? :)**

**Just a sweet little one-shot to brighten your day! Do review and let me know what you think :)**

**-ClinkBear :)**


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